Lilly Marlene
by Soul Reaver
Summary: After an arguement with Lady Jaye, Flint runs into an a British WWII veteran who tells him his story from the war years.


Lili Marlene  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the GI Joe franchise. Hats off to those who have given their lives for freedom, especially those of the Special Operations Executive, whom this story is dedicated to. The song Lili Marlene isn't my work either, it is a classic soldier song of the period.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
United Kingdom, present day: Flint decided to take a long walk after he and Lady Jaye had gotten into a particularly nasty argument. Somehow during his journey he had wound up in a cemetery. He sat down on one headstone, he just needed to think.  
  
"Excuse me sir, would you please get off that headstone?" an older English gentleman said.  
  
Flint did so and the man asked, "If I may say, sir, might I ask what you are doing here?"  
  
"I just needed a walk." Flint said.  
  
"They can do that to you." The old man replied, "Women, I mean."  
  
"How'd you...." Flint began.  
  
"Age, experience, and once being in your shoes." The old man said, "It was a long time ago, a different world. The difference is, when I took that walk it took me far away..."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Underneath the lantern,  
  
By the barrack gate  
  
Darling I remember  
  
The way you used to wait  
  
T'was there that you whispered tenderly,  
  
That you loved me,  
  
You'd always be,  
  
My Lilli of the Lamplight,  
  
My own Lilli Marlene  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
United Kingdom, 1941: Two young people sat together in an outdoor café in London. It was evening. They couldn't have been older than twenty years of age. The woman was slim, with short dark hair, with dark eyes and a lovely smile. The young man wore the uniform of a British Army Lance Corporal, a Territorial soldier with the 5th East Yorkshire Battalion. The woman wore the uniform of the women's Royal Air Force Auxiliary. The way they talked and carried on was the way of the old friends that they were...  
  
"One air raid I was in the shower, so I came running out of the barracks in the cold of the night wearing only my towel as I headed for the slit trench." The man said, "I could have mooned the entire Luftwaffe that night."  
  
The woman laughed lightly and said, "Andrew, talk about bad timing."  
  
"I certainly agree." The man replied. His name was Lance Corporal Andrew Harold Danvers.  
  
"I still remember having spotted dozens of air raids and vectored the RAF towards them." The woman replied. Her name was Diane Schonke.  
  
"God bless those lads of the RAF." Andrew replied. He was twenty-year-old soldier, with short black hair, and steel gray eyes, and now those eyes gleamed with mirth and gratitude.  
  
"I really do love this café." Diane said, "The food is good, service is prompt and the friendly banter never stops."  
  
"As do I. Whenever I can get time off duty, I love coming here." Andrew replied, smiling at his close friend, whom lately he'd been feeling more than friendly affection for.  
  
"Andrew, have you ever met Chris Powers, my boyfriend?" Diane asked.  
  
"No, I can't say I haven't." Andrew said, "If you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to camp."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
United Kingdom, present day: "So what happened afterward?" Flint asked.  
  
"The next day, I begged my commanding officer to transfer me anywhere. Within a week I had orders to go to North Africa." Andrew replied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
United Kingdom, 1941: "Andrew, must you really go?" Diane asked.  
  
"They've need of soldiers in North Africa." Andrew replied, "And I did not join the service for garrison duty in Britain."  
  
"Andrew, please write?" Diane replied.  
  
"I shall, presently." Andrew replied.  
  
A Flight Sergeant with the Royal Air Force came up to them, "Andrew, this is Chris."  
  
"Charmed." Andrew replied, hiding the angst inside.  
  
"Diane tells me much of you. A fellow bound by duty and loyalty, a brave soldier, and most importantly a warm friend. She frequently says she is lucky to have known you, and I hope in time I can see what a friend you are."  
  
"Well, I'd best be on my way. I don't want to be tried for desertion before I even reach my post." Andrew replied. The troop ship left the dock before he let the tears show, for his beloved Diane. She obviously loved and adored this man, as seen by the glow in her eyes. And Andrew Danvers knew he had gone to the North African theater because he knew his life had no more meaning.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Time would come for roll call,  
  
Time for us to part,  
  
Darling I'd caress you  
  
And press you to my heart,  
  
And there 'neath that far-off lantern light,  
  
I'd hold you tight ,  
  
We'd kiss good night,  
  
My Lilli of the Lamplight,  
  
My own Lilli Marlene  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
United Kingdom, present day: "So why didn't you fight for her? Did you tell her?" Flint said.  
  
"She obviously loved Chris, I couldn't interfere with that." Andrew replied, "I never told her I loved her. It was always very veiled and hidden."  
  
"Why?" Flint asked.  
  
"I only wanted her to be happy, and if it was without me, then I resolved to flee to the farthest corner of the world so she could have her happiness without my hurt clouding things." Andrew replied, "In North Africa I heard of a new unit, called the Special Air Service and I immediately volunteered, if only to take my mind off the pain.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
North Africa, 1942: Andrew dropped the Gammon bomb into the engine cowling of the German aircraft and ran far enough away to allow it to safely explode. A German soldier standing on the other end of the plane wasn't so fortunate.  
  
This was Andrew Danvers's first taste of combat and it was an experience he'd not soon forget. A German officer leapt from hiding, and attacked. Danvers dropped his Sten sub machinegun to fight off his attacker and the war for the two men was simply a primal contest of hands, teeth, head butts and knives.  
  
Andrew shouted, painfully as the German officer bit down on his forearm. He forced the man's head into the hard tarmac again and again until he heard the sickening thud of a skull fracturing. Stunned, he grabbed his weapon and ran towards the vehicles that were speeding off into the desert night.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
North Africa, 1942: Andrew Danvers sat in his billet, writing a letter, his weekly write home to Diane. Her letters were his one bit of comfort in this war. The most precious item in his kit was a bundle of every letter she'd written him. They were read over and over again as he went through training to join the SAS and before and after every patrol.  
  
Even if she'd broken his heart and never known it her friendship meant the world to Andrew. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but she was too happy with Chris. She had that special glow that surrounds a woman in love, and his love for her was just as pure. It was just as well that he was far away, in the desert.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
United Kingdom, present day: "So what happened to her?" Flint asked.  
  
"We kept in touch throughout my time in North Africa and Sicily." Andrew replied, "One day in Italy her letters stopped coming."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Italy, 1943: Almost five weeks had passed, and Diane hadn't written him once during that period. The last he'd heard of her, she had volunteered for a certain assignment she couldn't disclose. All she stated was that her fluent German and French were to be very helpful where she was going. The censors had taken three quarters of her last letter out because they feared it compromised sensitive information.  
  
Whatever it was, it had to be top secret. The censors weren't usually that bad with editing letters. A song played from a radio in the camp. It was a popular tune sang by Vera Lynn called Lili Marlene. How ironic, the situation the singer sang of reminded him of his beloved Diane. He'd first heard it in Africa when the old hands would tune in to German radio stations and listen to the original version of the song. Not to be outdone, an English version was written at the request of soldiers who were tired of being reprimanded for listening to a song about a 'Nazi whore' from the Axis radio station in Belgrade.  
  
"And I liked the German version better you prick." Andrew remarked at the BBC correspondent, miles away.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Orders came for sailing,  
  
Somewhere over there  
  
All confined to barracks  
  
was more than I could bear  
  
I knew you were waiting in the street  
  
I heard your feet,  
  
But could not meet,  
  
My Lilly of the Lamplight,  
  
my own Lilly Marlene  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
United Kingdom, present day: "What happened to Diane?" Flint asked.  
  
"She'd volunteered to help the French Resistance with Special Operations Executive. The women who volunteered were given a little espionage training and dropped behind German lines." Andrew replied, "That's why she stopped writing me. I badgered for information wherever I could. It got me in a spot of trouble."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
United Kingdom, 1944: "Sergeant! That information is restricted!" Chris replied.  
  
"To whom, and why, Flight Lieutenant?" Andrew replied, spitting out the higher ranking man's title with contempt.  
  
"You'd best watch your tone." Chris replied.  
  
"Do you really love her?" Andrew replied.  
  
"Don't make this about her, Sergeant!" Chris replied, defensively.  
  
"Do you really?" Andrew repeated.  
  
"Sergeant that information is...." Chris replied.  
  
"Classified! I know!" Andrew replied, punching him.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
United Kingdom, present day: "So I was demoted for striking a superior officer, but it didn't deter me using every source at my disposal until I finally found out where she was." Andrew replied.  
  
"She'd gone missing three months after she was dropped behind enemy lines. She was only twenty-two years old." Andrew replied, "Chris put a pistol to his temple shortly after, but I never gave up the search."  
  
"Did you ever find her?" Flint asked.  
  
"Yes." Andrew replied, "A year later, when the war was just wrapping up, an orderly approached me."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Resting in our billets,  
  
Just behind the lines  
  
Even tho' we're parted,  
  
Your lips are close to mine  
  
You wait where that lantern softly gleams,  
  
Your sweet face seems  
  
To haunt my dreams  
  
My Lilly of the Lamplight,  
  
My own Lilly Marlene  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
France, 1944: "Fuck Hitler! Fuck Hitler!" The German SS soldier begged. He couldn't have been older than nineteen or twenty at most.  
  
Unimpressed, Andrew Danvers nodded his head and the two other SAS soldiers fired bullets into the temples of five German Waffen SS soldiers and one Gestapo prisoner. He had nothing but hate for the men who had captured and likely tortured and killed Diane. These were also men who murdered any SAS soldier that fell into their hands. None of the three men on this jeep patrol had any regrets for having shot these German prisoners after making them dig their own graves.  
  
"Sergeant." Trooper (private) Fulmar said, "This one's still alive."  
  
The Gestapo officer was gasping from the bullet in his stomach. "Let him bleed out." Andrew replied, spitting in the man's face, "Was it good to kill those women of the SOE."  
  
"Let's go. The sight of this scum is making me ill." Andrew replied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Germany, 1945: "Sergeant Danvers?" the cherubic seventeen-year-old orderly asked.  
  
"Yes." Andrew replied.  
  
"There's a patient in the hospital who requested to see you." The orderly said, "One Diane Schonke, I believe it was."  
  
Instantly Andrew gathered his oil stained brown beret, threw it onto his head, and grabbed his sub machinegun and kit and jumped into the jeep. His heart leaped, beating faster. He'd not heard from her in two years and now, she was alive.  
  
When he walked into the hospital he saw a woman wearing a hospital garment, with a dark bruise around her right eye. There were several half healed and some fresh bruises and cuts. "Where was she?" Andrew asked.  
  
"A prison camp on the Franco-German border sergeant." The orderly replied.  
  
"Leave us." Andrew replied.  
  
The woman bundled into his arms, and he felt how frail she was. Diane held her ribs, tenderly, "They kicked me there quite often." She said, tears forming.  
  
"Don't cry, please, it's going to be alright." Andrew said, tears in his own eyes, as he held her close to him, feeling her tears soak through his field jacket and shirt.  
  
As the night wore on, Diane told him of what the Germans had done to her when she'd fallen into their hands. "They kept me in a small concrete room, without my clothing much of the time. It was winter, so I became ill with pneumonia. I begged for tissues and all they did was spray me with a hose and cold water. Then for warmth one of them would force himself on me while two others held me down. Then I'd be kicked about for their amusement." Diane replied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
United Kingdom, present day: "What happened then?" Flint asked.  
  
"I told her I loved her, and I had for a long time." Andrew replied, "She'd smiled at me, even though bruised and healing a split lip it was the most beautiful thing I'd seen. She said she'd known since that night in the café, and that it hurt her for me to leave."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Germany, 1945: "Andrew?" Diane asked.  
  
Andrew was getting ready to head back to camp, where he really wasn't needed or due for another few hours. "Yes."  
  
"Please stay." Diane begged.  
  
"I will." Andrew replied, resuming his place by her bedside, "You asked what I'd give for you last night. You've got my answer."  
  
Andrew pressed something into her hand and closed it. Diane opened it and saw a British identification disk. "My life, as long as you want it or need it." Andrew replied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
United Kingdom, present day: "So what happened next?" Flint asked.  
  
"Diane died seven months later of complications. It was in 1946. In grief I fled across the Channel to France and joined the French Foreign Legion, where I served from 1946 until 1954. I was severely wounded during the battle of Diem Bien Phu and was the last casualty to be flown out of that area. In France I met my future wife, whom I married and had two children with. She understood my story and for the past forty or so years I've come here every year to leave flowers on her grave. If you'll excuse me."  
  
The old man motioned Flint aside from the gravestone he'd sat on earlier and as he did, Flint read the headstone. Diane Schonke. January 13, 1921 - February 14, 1946. Much Beloved and Missed By All.  
  
Flint watched the old man's retreating form and picked up his cell phone, "Allie, we need to talk...."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
To the brave women of SOE who endured untold suffering at the hands of the Germans in World War II. 


End file.
